


Resemblance

by Eluvian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cole Does Coin Tricks, Cole Warns Hank about Junk Food, Cole is being bullied, Connor does Coin Tricks, Connor is like a Child, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Swears, Looking in the mirror, Memories, On the Run Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), POV Alternating, POV Connor, POV Connor (Detroit: Become Human), POV Hank Anderson, POV Multiple, Parent Hank Anderson, Protective Hank Anderson, Questions, The Bridge Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), The Interrogation Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), The Nest Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Worried Parent Hank Anderson, coin tricks, doubts, identity crisis, parallels between Cole and Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvian/pseuds/Eluvian
Summary: Parallels between Cole Anderson and Connor RK800, the android sent by Cyberlife.Hank reminisces about his past often. He may not want to, but a (machine) person appearing in his life keeps reminding him of someone he has lost, with his little actions that (it) he is surely not aware of.
Relationships: Cole Anderson & Hank Anderson, Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Hank Anderson's Wife
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	1. Carbohydrates

When he was young, Hank Anderson never thought he would ever like children. Let alone have one. For a long while he did not think he would want to settle down. He focused on his career and other pursuits in life. Games, drinking, travelling, worldly pleasures. Until he met someone that changed his life forever, as they say in books. He'd not believed this cliche ccould actually be applied to anything in real life. But it did.

Theresa was the wonder he had been waiting for. He grew to love her so much that it was not a question that they would become a family. The lone wolf grew to accept the fact that from that time on his life was more than his life. It was that of two more people. And he did not mind it at all.

He was never too proud of his own looks, but obviously he found Theresa charming. Cole looked like both of them, naturally, that’s what was typical for children, yet it was so strange to see that happen. For long years he never imagined having someone looking like the mixture of the person he loved and his own self. Hank saw Theresa in him, somehow. But he saw the differences too.

Cole was a new being. A shining something in a life which he thought he knew. Many tasks, much exhaustion, and the happiest moments he’s ever had.

***

Hank loved to be alone, to enjoy a moment when he had nothing to do, just sit down on the sofa, switch on the TV, and...

"Daaad, will you come play with me?", the hight pitched voice came from the backyard. Of course, he went. Mum was away, working, and Dad was tired, so tired, but he could not reject his voice. He did not think of himself as this "weak" before. Smiling, he stood up from the sofa, stretched his back, which hurt from sitting for a long time, and hurried into the garden.

***

Hank was standing in the line, waiting to order a burger. Cole lingered around his legs, his small hands sometimes touching his knee, otherwise the boy was looking around at the bustling city, the buildings, the people walking all around them. Then, Cole's eyes fixated on the reddish-yellow, edited image of a hamburger. He thought for a while, he did not even see that Hank was looking right at him. Small wrinkles formed between Cole's light brown - or dark blond - eyebrows, making him look like a little professor already.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Hamburgers have lots of... carbohydrates in them, right?"

Where did he learn that word? Cole did stop for a short while before saying it, but he could pronounce it without mistakes. Hank laughed a little.

"Yeah, they do."

"Too much carbo...hi...drates are not good for your health."

Cole stepped rom one leg to the other, his hands folded behind his back, his hand tilted down, but his eyes gazing up at his father with innocence.

"Well, I won't eat TOO much of it then. Thanks for the warning", he stroke the boy's hair, but Cole kept glancing toward the other stand, with salads.

"Dad, those ones look really tasty."

"Would you like one of those?", Hank asked with a half-smile.

"Would YOU like one of those? They are much healthier than hamburgers."

Hank laughed. The damn boy, always caring about his health. It could be really annoying sometimes, but at the same time, so adorable.

 _I am weak_ , he thought, and reluctantly stepped out of the line, meeting the frustrated glance of the lady behind them, who had been waiting for minutes to order her hamburger.

"See, dad? She is so fat."

"Cole, sssh-"

"If you eat salads, you will _never_ get fat", Cole said, determined. Hank massaged his temple with his hands. They had to get away quickly. He felt a tad ashamed, but he could not keep his shoulders from shaking with laughter. Then, and at many more times like thes, he forced salads down his throat. And yeah, sometimes they weren't bad indeed. The kid had good taste.

***

Chichek Feed. Serving the worst possible food you could get in the city. Of course, he always said it was the best. It tasted fine, he did not care where the igredients were from, and he did not die of it yet. (Not that he would have minded.)

And now there was this android, standing beside him like a freaking bodyguard. He would not stay in that car, ever. Hank could just _feel_ that Connor was analyzing every bit of his surroundings – he always did. He saw it in his eyes that he wanted to say something about the food Hank was eating. Sometimes he thought that Connor’s eyes betrayed him. Hank did not know how it was possible, but he could just sense the comtempt of the android towards the unhealthy food. No, it was not contempt. He just wanted to mention it. 

He started eating it with visible pleasure.

 _Don’t say a word_ , he thought, but he kept his face so negligent. He did not want this machine to see how he felt. _Don’t you dare say a word._

And Connor did not say anything. About this topic, at least. He kept on asking other things, though. Personal questions. He always kept asking. Of course, that is what he was designed for. But he did not ask questions that would help the investigation, he seemed to ask what he was curious about. Like what Hank thought of him. _Well, you wouldn't want to know that._

Connor's words, like being read out of a book. A technical book. Then a sentence: "...but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features." And a wink. Fast, quick, and the side of his mouth still had to move with the motion, just like that of a human's. But it was so, so synthetic. That smile was not real. It was a weak, feeble attempt to mimic human emotions and that's what pissed Hank off the most.

Bastards. To think they could trick anyone with this stuff. Why the heck does it have to behave like a normal person, when it can't? It could just as well speak like a mathematics book all the time (though that would make it kind of hard to communicate.) Or it could have a voice like computers had in the 1990s. It would be easier.

Also, it could just as well not ask random questions all the time.

Curious. That’s stupid. That thing can’t have been curious, Hank reminded himself. But damn, that puppy was just like a child. Following him around, accepting his harsh words without a trace of reaction, and asking damn questions.

Looking like a grown man, being a machine, and acting just like a child.


	2. Two sides of a coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise, Cole also loved to do coin tricks.

Cole loved to play. He loved all kinds of shiny objects, mechanics, games in which you tried to trick physics. He loved to climb on things, like furniture and trees. And he loved to play with coins.

When Hank did not find the change that he remembered to have put EXACTLY on the table or the shelf, he went to look for the little, brownish-blond haired boy playing in the garden or in his room, trying to keep the shiny piece of metal in the air. He seemed so disappointed when it fell down, but he picked it up and tried again, and again. Hank never knew why he enjoyed itt hat much, but it was a fine sight to watch him do that. And with time, he became better and better at it.

He would ask Hank what the coins were worth. And every time, Hank tried to reply with something different then "Basically, nothing." Of course the boy was interested in the numbers. He was only 5, after all, he was still learning them. Every once in a while Cole would walk around the house just repeating numbers after numbers, going up till hundred, then five hundred, than a thousand, but instead of thousand he would often say "ten-hundred", because thousand is such a huge and foreign number that he never said before.

Then, he would start again.

 _How do children have such patience?_ , the lieutenant asked himself, never being able to concentrate this much on his own work.

Cole always loved to go to the shops with him and his mother. Hank hated shops. They were all too cold, too crowded, too many people who threw weird glances at him when Cole ran off somewhere and came back with 6 different brands of chocolate and also some salty snacks.

That was the time when Cole had to learn what those coins meant. "There is not so much of them that we could buy all that", Hank said with a reassuring smile. Cole was sad at first, but soon he learned to choose what was really important. He needed to decide what he liked best. And he also loved paying. Except doing all the tricks he usually dropped the coins several times, causing his father to make long excuses to the cashier lady and the people standing in the line behind them.

***

Connor did not think about why he did things. It was natural. He just went on with it. He did not know why he played with coins when he had to wait for a short period of time. Later, he examined human' patterns in their activities during waiting, and he found out that the purpose might have been to distract them from boredom. But he was never bored. He just had the right amount of capacity to focus on something physical, meanwhile sorting pieces of information.

Hank watched him with frustration. Firstly he imagined androids looking basically like a human figure, standing still if they are not told otherwise (and not asking questions when they shouldn't.) Yet here was this one with his winks, leaning against stuff, asking personal questions, smiling, and doing damned coin tricks.

What the hell did he need a coin for, anyway? These ones could just pay by blinking once with their LED circle, and the transmission was done. Advanced credit cards...

"You're starting to piss me off with that coin, Connor", Hank finally said, because he did not drink his coffee and he was more nervous than usual. For some reason, he felt a bit of regret after saying that. But the damn thing had no right to... evoke such memories in him. Hank was not paranoidd, but for a moment it crossed his mind that Connor might be able to see into his mind sometimes.

Scary.

Connor stopped what he was dong immediately, catching the small piece of metal in his hands and putting it away. Processing, he thought for a long time about how he should react, trying to find the reason for his partner's anger.

"Sorry, Lieutenant", he said, as, based on his previous experiences, expressing regret and apologizing turned out positive. It did not make Hank any angrier, at least, and with this human it could be considered a great success.

***

Hank held the change in his hands and some absurd thought told him to start to act like a child. He looked around, noticed that no one was near, so he took a deep sigh, cursing himself about how much of an idiot he was.

He remembered the movements, he noticed. The many years that passed since the last time he did this - it was not so long ago, he remembered, gloomily, but tried to silence that thought -, and as it was the case with most skills, they developed, even when they were left dormant, unpracticed.

he started to feel a small hint of success, when he managed not to drop the metal thingy for about twenty seconds.

He was so preoccupied he did not even notice the android sneaking up on him. Well, he could not really sneak, he rather approached Hank standing up straight with long steps and his 5 feet height. Yet Hank did not notice him until he was too close.

His heart rated quickly accelerated, as he hurriedly hid the coin in his pockets.

 _Nothing. I was doing nothing_ , he glanced up, nervous, but Connor did not say anything, and from loking at his face, Hank could not even decide whether he was thinking anything. Or, maybe, there was a tiny smirk. He could not say, it could have been something he only imagined.

 _Damn_ , he sighed internally. This android was making such an idiot out of him.

Connor believed he understood what Hank felt. Machines were better than humans, and it could have annyoyed Hank that Connor was capable of such a trick that was difficult for humans, as they were not able to calculate and measure physics the same way. He decided not to pursue this activity when the Lieutenant was around. At least not on purpose. But for some reason it felt like success that Hank was doing something that was so... _not_ part of the investigation.

It was as if Hank wanted to match Connor's skills. As if he was _envious_ of him. And he regarded this activity as something that needs to be followed.

It should not have felt so good, but it did.


	3. I'm Only a Crack in this Castle of Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Connor looking into mirrors, and basically what they are thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, so after a kind comment I received earlier (it was hearwarming, thanks again) I decided to continue, and I got an idea on how to continue, then got 2 other ideas before it, this is one of them. I wrote this instead of studying, it felt so sinfully wonderfully fantastic.  
> The title is a reference to a Linkin Park song, Castle of Glass which I like very much.  
> The details about Cole's part are basically my own experiences.

Cole climbed up the little chair, careful to gain his balance and not fall off. Then he straightened up, and, bewildered, glanced into the sheet of glass in front of him, which he now could see, from this height.

He saw a grinning child, and it was himself. He knew it. The reflection moved as he moved, and when he touched his hand to the surface of the glass, he was surprised that it was cold. His hands weren’t cold. Of course, the glass was not his hands, but it sure seemed like it.

It was his secret. He felt ashamed of this, because, he was not sure, people did not like when someone stared at their own reflection for too long. They told him to stop it after a while, probably because he made stupid faces and laughed at them. But he was still curious how his body worked, he wanted to figure it out. So he sneaked in when they were not looking.

He ran his fingers through his hair. The strands of brownish-blondish, soft locks would not obey, like, ever. So eventually he got annoyed with trying to look like a gentleman, and some seconds later his hair was disheveled as if he fought in the garden with two other kids, or got attacked by some kind of wild animal.

He liked it. His mother and father didn't so much, though.

He leant closer and looked into his eyes. He could not decide what colour they were. Green or blue? He liked eye colours, because he felt they made people special. In his kindergarten group there were 13 people with brown eyes, 8 with blue eyes and 3 that he could not decide, a little bit like his own. When occasionally a new kid came, he always admired their face from up close, examining their eye colour and put it onto the list.

He felt special. Not too many people had eyes like him.

Children looked like their parents, they said. Cole kept on looking at his father and mother and then himself to find out what similarities they had. It was so weird. He could not get his hands on it. He could not decide which parent he looked like most. When he felt sure about some detail, another one caused confusion. He was a mix of both of them. Perfectly.

He was curious how he would look when he grew up. Maybe he would look like his dad more, because he was a boy.

Then he heard steps approaching. He saw his own scared glance in the mirror. He stepped off the small chair and hid behind one of the curtains, butterflies flying all around his stomach, excited about the fact that he saw Dad walking past the door, and Dad did not see him.

_I am a spy._

“Cole, where are you?”

But Cole would not tell. He would let Dad search for him before.

“Theresa, honey, have you seen him?”

“No, he was playing in his room about twenty minutes ago”, Mum replied.

“Sumo, be a good dog and tell me where my son is, please.”

 _No, Sumo! Don’t betray me, Sumo!_ , he thought. He heard the dog woof. But he did not move from the ground.

“Eh… That’s how much I can trust you?”, he heard Dad, with a grunt.

Cole grinned behind the curtains.

***

Connor entered the interrogation room. The Deviant sitting at the table was completely catatonic. _I have time_ , Connor thought.

One of the walls of the room was a mirror. Connor saw himself approach and he walked closer. He examined the figure they created for him. His mind drifted away from his task. The guilt slowly climbed up his consciousness, but he silenced it slowly. He convinced himself that a few seconds would not hinder the investigation.

Tall, strong looking human figure. Why?

Probably to evoke respect, maybe fear. Not too much of it. Just the satisfactory amount.

His lower lips were slightly more backwards than his upper ones. Also his chin was relatively small. Symbolising the lack of aggression. Yet his facial bone structure remained masculine.

Wrinkles on his forehead. The sign of intelligence.

Brown eyes. No technical proof of it being connected to any psychological or intellectual traits. Although, according to scientific studies, people tended to trust people with brown eyes more than for instance people with blue eyes. Genetically it was an indicator of mixed heritage. Blue eyes and blond hair were the “default” human colours. Also, brown was a warm colour, seeing which generally resulted in positive emotions.

The LED circle on the right side of his temple. Light blue. Default. Calm. Symbol. Android. Machine.

Different. Yet looking almost the same. If the LED circle was not there he could be mistaken for a human. There couldd be a human with this bone structure, height, weight, hair and eye colour. Yet that LED circle made Gavin and Hank and many others act antagonistic.

_Why do I look like this then?_

The seconds passed. His task has not been completed yet.

Hank narrowed his eyes in disbelief as he watched the android stare at himself in the mirror.

“What the fuck is it doing now?!”

Connor turned around and stepped away from the mirror, walking to the table where the deviant was sitting. He did not blink, although he felt a need to change his expressions somehow. To express… guilt. But then he prioritized and getting on with the investigation became more important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I think Connor is a crack in the castle of glass, because... Well, he is on his way to become Deviant. The Castle of Glass can be, a) Cyberlife, b) the whole Androids are machines stuff. And at this time there is only one small, but growing crack in his system (system instability, finding identity and such).


	4. To Teach a Lesson - To Learn a Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole was not the most popular kid and Hank had to stand up to him. Years later he stands up to Connor.

Cole was a cute kid. He really was, of course Hank thought so because he was his father, but anybody who was in his or her right mind would have thought just the same.  
But children were stupid.

Not Cole. Of course. Other children.

Cole did not always get on with them very well. And, objectively or subjectively, it was not his fault. He was sensitive, he had a sense of justice and would speak for himself even when it would have been wiser to shut his mouth.

So they hurt him.

With words or physically, it was visible that he felt worse and worse when coming home from kindergarten. The normally cheerful child fell silent and refused to speak about his day. One needed not browse through long pages of parenthood notebooks to find out what this meant. Those stupid little brats laid their hands on him, again.

Theresa told Hank he should not intervene, interfere or do anything, because it would just make the situation worse, but he could not stand the sight of Cole being treated like that. Theresa was a good mother, Hank new, but he thought she was too soft, too understanding with everybody. She did not see that those kids needed to be taught a lesson. She taught Cole to cope and made sure he knows that they will always love him.

But knowing that your parents love you was not enough when you spent most of your day away from your parents.

Hank did not _hurt_ those children. He talked to them, but he did not restrain his voice. He felt satisfied when they finally seemed to understood that he was not one to play with.

But, it turned out, this was not the best solution either. The children did not bother Cole anymore. They isolated him. They did not talk to him anymore, no matter what kind of games the teachers came up with. They threw weird glances at Cole and laughed behind his back, leaving him alone. Cole was sad. Ashamed. 

It was difficult to get it out of him, and when, silently crying, he confessed, hiding his face in his hands, ashamed, they decided to transfer him into another kindergarten.

Fleeing is not the best option. Not always. But this time, they had to start clear. Tabula rasa. And Hank also learned something. Or he thought he did.

***

The interrogation proceeded wonderfully. The dark brown-skinned Deviant, who had just been staring into the nothingness in front of him meanwhile Hank was talking to it, seemed to break as Connor talked to it. Hank observed Connor’s face as he spoke. Fascinating, the way he could mimic real emotions. He was slow, understanding, throwing reasoning after reasoning, waiting for the response, approaching the case from different directions. A little threat, a little patience, a little more threat, empathy… Hell, Connor was more patient to the Deviant than Hank could have been.

 _I guess that’s why they sent him to help me_ , the lieutenant thought bitterly, not too willing to admit that this snobbish-looking smooth-faced smartass was better than him.

But, hell, a calculator was better at calculating than a human, who could blame them?

And the piece of plastic did achieve what they wanted. The Deviant was talking. Connor made it trust him. Then those two wonderful people went in and attempted to take the Deviant out, unsuccessfully.

Connor intervened, but Gavin just had to show everyone he still has the biggest penis in the world.

“Okay, that’s enough”, Hank finally announced when it seemed that crazy detective would start a brawl with the android.

Gavin even degraded himself to taking out his gun in the interrogation room.

 _This one is totally stupid_ , Hank thought, though it was a fact that was not new to him. Yet he wouldn’t have thought Gavin was SUCH an idiot. Ever since that android was here, Gavin became even more unbearable. It was too difficult for him to get used to the fact that there were people better at solving cases than him.

And at this time, Hank felt a little proud. Not envious, but proud. Connor was _his_ assistant android, after all.

“I said”, he said slowly, drawing his own gun. _If you want to play Western, Gavin, fine, I’m game…_ “, that’s enough.”

Gavin’s face looked so tormented and it was such a delight to watch. He cursed, putting away the gun. _Good dog_ , Hank wanted to say. No, he was a really bad rabid dog… A bully.

Connor acted like a dog sometimes as well, and was not really obedient either, but still he evoked much more sympathy.

Hank could not tell why he felt so annoyed every time that jerk interfered into their affairs, but after a while he felt grateful they sent Connor to help him. He would never have admitted it, but Connor was a pleasant companion to have. Something fresh after all that stupidity and antagonism. And he belonged to Hank, so Hank had to protect him. Also, bullies still had to be taught a lesson, even if they were fully grown.

Connor felt content. Hank had protected him. He was on his way to gain his trust. It felt good.

It was part of the mission.

And it was acceptance. It felt satisfying to be accepted.


	5. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission On the Run when Connor and Hank chase Kara and Alice. Hank stops Connor from climbing the fence, because he sure as hell does not want to witness anyone else die because of a car accident.  
> Kara and Alice successfully cross the road and everybody is grateful for something.

Kara didn't know she was able to climb a fence. She did not do that before. She COULD not do that before.  
But now she had to save her little girl. She did not calculate too much how risky it was that they get damaged. She pushed these thoughts away. She just climbed, as fast as she could. They were hunting them. Quick. Cruel. Without question. The one chasing them was assigned the task that it... or he, she did not know, has to capture them.   
They were over the fence.  
She did not know how she did it, but they did it. Alice, too, her small, weak, fragile body.

***

The two Deviants were too fast. They reached the fence by the time Connor got there, even though he was fast as hell. Hank envied him for not needing air to function and such. He could never run that fast. He felt his body failing. It suddenly did not seem so important to catch those two. if they wanted to be free so badly, why not let them?  
 _I am a bad cop_ , he thought. But of course, he knew that for a long time, now. He was a bad father, a bad cop... A bad man.  
His lungs hurt. 

***

Connor reaches the fence. Recalculating. The road ahead of them is dangerous. Very dangerous. The Deviants might change their mind and decide not to cross.  
For a moment their eyes meet. His sensors quickly analyse their appearance. Human clothes, probably stolen from somewhere. Her hair is different than the picture he saw on the image on Hank's computer. Not the original hairstyle of the AX400 model (a tidy, brown bun), but shorter, and silver-coloured. It matches her eyes, which are light blue, with the expression of... desperation? Enmity? Doubts?   
The child has more clothes on. She could be a human, being cold out in the open. Why is a Deviant running away with a human child?  
He needs to catch them.  
After a split second, the AX400 turns away and continues to run for the road.  
The swift cars would turn them to messy pieces of plastic, bones and blood in a second. But nevertheless, they seem to have the objective to attempt crossing.  
The policemen arrive. He tells them not to shoot. Losing seconds. The two he was chasing slide down and reach the side of the road.  
What should he do?  
Hank finally arrives, cursing. Exhausted.   
Connor's gaze is fixated on the two feminine figures crossing the road. He finds himself imagining that a car crashes into them, and it sends an unprecedented shockwave through his system. He is _scared_ it would happen. He does not want to witness it. He loses more seconds watching the AX400 evade the vehicles. She is very agile. Connor feels relieved she does not get damaged.  
Why?  
His LED is wild yellow, the circle running round and round and round.  
He must catch them. He needs to interrogate them.  
Connor makes his decision. He knows he is able to run fast and if the two deviants can avoid the cars, so can he.  
Besides, he might even save them.   
He grips the fence and leverages himself...  
"Hey, where you goin'?", the Lieutenant asks. Irritated.  
 _He wants me to stop._  
"I can't let them get away."  
 _I have made a mistake. Let me set it right._ Every second they are getting farther and farther.  
"They won't... They'll never make it to the other side.", Hank says, with a wave of his hand. He does not think it is important to catch them anymore.  
 _That is the problem. If I let them die, it is my fault. If I capture them, there is a chance that they stay alive. And I will get information._  
"I can't take that chance."  
He moves again.  
Hank's hands on his shoulders. Strong.   
"HEY, you would get yourself killed!"  
Connor could free himself from Hank's grasp and climb the fence. He is sure he could. Also he could go past the cars and other vehicles with a hight probability of avoiding them.   
But Hank does not want that.  
"Do NOT go after them, Connor, that's an order!"  
Order. Contradicting previous priorities and the investigation.   
If he does not go after them, further Deviants could still be found and thus the investigation shall proceed.   
He wants to catch them. He wants to catch them and it feels like an itch that needs to be scratched. Humans would call it instinct. He is certain it is because of his programme.  
But his programme should not make him want to save them.  
They get farther and farther away. The AX400 holds the little girl's hands, pulling her away from the cars, then pushing her towards the other side of the road. She examines the traffic, waits for the right moment then goes through.  
They are alive.  
Functioning.  
Alive.   
His LED's orange light changes to yellow. They are safe. Not in their hands, but safe.  
On the other side of the road, he can see in the distance, the AX400 hugs the little girl.  
Affection.   
He is relieved that he does not have to interrogate them. 

***

Hank is so done with life.  
This stupid investigation.  
What does he care. If they want to run for it, let them.   
He did not think this android could be SO GODDAMN stubborn.   
For a moment his heart skips a beat.  
Connor is going to cross that freaking fence.  
He is going to cross that road which is crossed by 200 cars in a minute.  
He is going to be smashed because he wants to complete his goddamned mission.  
And Hank cannot stop him. His words might not be enough. They were not enough before.   
Hank feels despair.  
There is not enough drink in the world that will be enough if that machine gets killed on the road right now.

So quick. Everything. So quick. That's what they always say about accidents. One moment everything is alright and the next...

He tried to react but he was too slow.  
No, it was not his fault. It can't have been his fault.  
Cole is dying. Why did it have to be him?  
 _Why can't it be me. I can stand suffering, but I don't want to see him like this._  
No one to help. Just a goddamn android.  
No problem. They are machines, they must know how to do their job.  
Right?  
How could an android mess up an operation? How could it? What use were they then?  
 _You were supposed to help me. You were supposed to save him._  
 _You are useless._  
 _You have taken everything from me._  
 _You are all useless._  
 _Damn you all._  
 _He is gone. My son is gone._

He does not want to remember but he can't stop. _God. Damn. Stupid. Machines._  
 _If you get killed, I want CyberLife to put you back together again so that I can kill you the second time._  
But Connor stays. He does not move.  
Hank does not believe it.  
 _You're listening to me once, in this hell of a life? Wonderful._  
He is tired. So tired. He just wants to go home, switch on the TV, drink something, pet his dog and then collapse into the bed, oblivious about what the next day will bring.  
They stand there, watching the female android hug the child with whom she safely arrived. A miracle. No human could have done that.  
But no simple android would have WANTED to do that. She did not leave the child behind, she wanted to protect it. Strange folk, these Deviants. Sure act like they are human. But humans have lots of faults.  
Hank resists the urge to hit Connor on his ribs, chin, nose, or to slap him with all the strength he can muster. He resists the urge to curse loudly. He is also too exhausted to do so. He just closes his eyes slowly, with gratitude. Maybe if there is a God somewhere, he heard his words, finally.   
Maybe.  
Or maybe the android assigned to him heard his words, finally.

***

They are alive.  
The sense of success slowly runs through her systems. Alice collapses into her arms, tired. Kara holds her close. She does not run now, she knows they will not follow them.  
Why did they stop?, she begins to think.   
'Are you okay?', she asks Alice, not knowing why. Of course she's not okay. She almost died, she must be in shock. But the little girl nods. She is silent, she is silent so many times. She is strong. And brave.  
And alive.  
Kara looks up, at the two figures in the distance, the older man and the android hunter. She does not know why they let them flee. When she saw her chaser's eyes, she though he would do anything to get them. He looked so determined. Scary. But then something changed. In an instant.   
She does not know.  
She does not care now.  
But she is grateful.  
 _Thank you._

***

"Lieutenant, why didn't you want me to cross the highway?"  
Why did he ask that?   
Of course... learning about the motives of one's partner is important in working together. And the event mentioned previously was one with conflicts. Contradicting instructions. One they need to settle so that it does not happen again.  
"Because you would have been killed", answers Hank, stating the obvious.  
Connor predicted this answer with a 95% probability.   
"...aand I don't like filling out papers about damaged equipment.", Hank adds a little bit too later. He thought about it for too long for it to sound as a natural addition to her previous sentence.   
_Equipment._  
 _That's not what you really think, is it?_

Connor hides the smirk that wants to appear on his face. He does not know where it comes from, it is a bit scary, and surely Amanda would not be happy about it. But he likes it nevertheless.  



	6. What are you really?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank takes Connor to a place he often visited with his son.   
> The Bridge.  
> It might not be the best idea.

'Could you just, wait in the car for _five minutes?_ Not till I come back, just five minutes, I need a little time alone.' Hank let out a soft sigh.

'Of course, Lieutenant', Connor replied, this time ready to comply.

_Yeah, sure, you always say that and the next thing I'm hearing is the car door closing._

But this time it didn't. 

Hank left the car radio play some erratic, irritating music that calmed his nerves. Connor'd said he never listened to music, well, now he could, if he bothered to do it. If not, he could always switch it off.

Hank was not sure why he came here. _I am sure a mazochist._ He thought the cold air and facing his memories would somehow settle his mind, but seeing the river, the city lights, the benches the same way as before - only stirred up his emotions.

He sat down onto the back-rest of the bench. Theresa always said he should sit where people normally sit on the bench, or else Cole is going to learn to not bother about any kinds of rules. But it was more fun this way. And now? There was no one to regulate him, Cole was not here, Therresa was not here...

Oh, but Connor was here.

Hank hoped he would not stick his nose into how one should sit on a bench though.

Not that it would have been so surprising.

In the indefinite silence, so un-typical of the city, he almost forgot that the clock was ticking. His lonely moments would come to an end. His hours when they did not need to bother investigating something messing up the whole world - would come to an end. His whole life would do that after a while.

What about Connor? How long till his systems stop functioning? And what would happen after, they just make another one looking exactly the same?

He envied him. There was always the chance. Although he could not say what that thing would be. It's sick. He was grateful that he never saw another RK-800 model. When he saw other androids looking like twins, his stomach almost couldnn't take it. What was in their minds? Why did humanity ever come up with something siceking as this? _They look like us, but there can be thousands of them, just the same._

_Here I am, this place, thinking about androids. Never gonna get rid of them._

When he let his memories roam free, it was not better either. He heard a voice, a voice which he will never hear again.

Unless he listens to the recordings they made, but he dis not want to do that ever again. It was just as sickening as watching those androids. It felt as if Cole was still there, a part of him saved into digits, files, data. But he wasn't. He just wasn't. It was a f*cking illusion.

He heard his car's door open and shut. Then footstps approaching, stopping for a while, the sound of magazine sheets. There was one probably on one of the benches. Then the footsteps again.

Cole would approach him from behind and throw a snowball at him. It was hella cold and uncomfortable, but hell, he would have endured any of them now.

Crazy.

He was partially grateful that he didn't need to be alone anymore.

'I used to come here a lot before.'

He did not know why he said that. It just felt relieving.

'Before what?'

He would have won the lottery. That question was just as expected as you expect the snow to be cold.

'Before... before nothin'.'

He wanted to ssay it but... no. He was too tired and too sober to talk about it now. The android could have figured out anyway, with that perfect mind of his. Hank always wandered what Connor could have been doing in his house while he was... pulling himself together.

_What if you haven't found me then?_

_What if that bullet came earlier? I would not be sitting here then._

He did not know whether it was for the better. But the figure standing beside him was somehow comforting.

And it annoyed him. If he closed his eyes for just a second he could imagine that it was two years back, and it was his son beside him and they were talking about all kinds of stuff, the stars, the universe, the stock exchange, dog food, kindergarten, whatever.

Connor waited for long for his questions. One could have thought he was actually sensing that Hank needed some silence. At least, until he started talking about the investigation again. Hank mumbled some answer, tired, totally uninterested. He was not in the mood to talk about this.

And suddenly, the more and more words came out of that smoothface's mouth, the darker the world went. Everything around him, everything started to feel like a nightmare, closing in around him. He was not hallucinating, it ws not his body giving up. He saw everything too clear, just too clear. He needed more drink.

He took another sip.

He did not know how long he could hold back his aggression, when he started accusing him.

'What about you, Connor? You look human', he stood up from the bench ', you sound human... but what are you really?'

His question sounded scarier than he thought, but it was intended. He _wanted_ to scare Connor. He wanted to see the fear in his eyes that had no place there. He wanted to see he was human in ways that was not allowed. Connor had proven it before.

'You know very well what I am, Lieutenant.'

_No I don't. I think you don't either._

'You could have shot those two girls, but you didn't.' He made Connor fade his decisions again. It wwas somewhat adorable how he tried to deny everything. 'Why didn't you shoot, Connor?' Hank pushed him. Connor usually withstood most physical and mental abuse, after that guy Gavin it was just natural that this would not hurt him.

But he did look startled. His LED changing colours, trying to gain back its "natural" blue, but all in vain. He was confused.

'How do I know you're not a deviant?'

That's what Kamski told him. Hank honestly did not know anymore. Connor acted so strange lately. He dared invoke the right of acting like the human without being one. It really pissed Hank off. Somewhere deep inside he felt that his anger pointing at the android was not logical, nor was it fair, but he did not care.   
'I self test regularly. I know what I am, and what I am not.'

_Sure, go convince yourself._

And then he drew his gun, pointing at the android's temple. Connor did not even flinch, but some small change of his expression told Hank that he felt _bad_ about it. Shocked.

'Are you afraid to die, Connor?'

Hank felt the better side of him leave. Here he was, threatening someone who did nothing else but help him. Even though he was stubborn, acting umreasonably and not do what he was told. Hank hated himself.

Connor felt...

Sorrow?

He could not decide what it was.

He was scared of losing Hank's trust. It was worse than the thought of being deactivated. He thought Hank trusted him. He thought he managed to move his mind away from his dark thoughts. That's why he was here at his side. And now he was facing a gun he did not expect from this direction.

'You know you would not kill me, Lieutenant. You are just trying to provoke a reaction', he administered his diplomacy skills. He sounded more determined than he felt, he hoped the words were true...

Hank finally let go. Exhausted. Ashamed. With a level of self-hatred he never felt before. He wanted the whole world to shut his eyes and never look at him again.

He put the gun away and turned around.

'Where are you going?'

It felt absurd, but Connor had to ask, what else could he have said?

'To get drunker.'

 _That is a perfect solution_ , Connor thought with irony, while his LED adjusted itself light blue again, and the terror of the sight of the gun slowly faded away.

Hank would probably take the car.

But he did not mind. He could walk.

That was the first time he did not follow Hank, in a long time.

For minutes, he remained silently in the awakening snowfall.

Hours passed. He was not needed. So he stayed.

Processing.

There was no one walking there, the benches remained empty. It was late night, the people were elsewhere, on the streets, in bars. Only one android staring at the moon's reflection in the river. The moon, so tiny and its light so weak between the artificial, screaming lights.

Tiny and weak like a human's life compared to his.

But what could he do? He did not choose it.


End file.
